


All paths lead back to you

by temptaste



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Cunnilingus, F/M, Infidelity, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 02:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14202969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temptaste/pseuds/temptaste
Summary: Katara may be the Avatar’s wife, but it’s not his touch she craves.





	All paths lead back to you

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, just to be clear: I love Aang and I absolutely don't mean to trash him with this fic.
> 
> I also don't condone cheating, but I think there's something tragically beautiful about Zuko and Katara never becoming an actual couple while having still feelings for each other, so I wanted to explore this in this story. I think it really adds to their sun/moon parallel and, _boy_ , do I love this parallel.

Katara waited until Aang’s breathing fell into a deep, slow pattern beside her. She waited until she was sure he was deep in sleep and wouldn’t wake up with her movements. She felt guilty about it, but then again, she would always feel guilty for doing that.

Slowly and as quietly as she could, she pushed the covers aside and got up from the bed. Naked, she padded across the room and picked the crimson silk robe given to the guests of the royal palace from the chair where it had been hanging, sliding her arms through the sleeves and tying its sash around her waist.

She glanced one last time to her young husband, innocent and unknowing to her wrongdoings, and, once more, guilt gnawed at her stomach. But as always, the guilt she felt was never enough to stop her. So she quietly left the room—and him.

A few spare candles casted a dim light in the corridors. The guest apartments in the Fire Nation palace were close to the royal quarters; Katara would just have to turn right and get to the end of the corridor to reach the Fire Lord’s chambers. Several guards patrolled the area, but she was not headed there.

Instead, Katara turned left.

As she distanced herself from the Fire Lord’s living quarters, security lessened; although there were still enough guards here and there. They, however, paid no mind to the Southern Water Tribe diplomat hurrying down the corridors late at night—it had become a rather common occurrence, in fact.

As she reached her final destination—a guest room intended for lower officials—she took one deep breath and rid herself of the remnants of guilt bothering her. Katara opened the door without knocking—she didn’t have to—and slipped inside the dark room, closing it after her.

The Fire Lord got up from the bed he was sitting on to meet her. “I thought you’d never come,” he said in one breath.

The sight of him made Katara immediately forget about any guilt she might have. He, too, was wearing only a silk night robe, although his had gold embroidery on it, marking his status. The robe, loosely tied around his waist, exposed his naked chest to her. His long hair was up in the usual topknot, his crown removed.

“Zuko.”

Katara ran to his embrace. Zuko met her with a passionate kiss, holding her tightly in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers, tasting his hot tongue in her mouth as their lips satiated their hunger. When they pulled apart, both were breathless.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and pressed her forehead against his, closing her eyes. “Aang wasn’t falling asleep.”

He held her face in his hands. “It’s okay. What matters is that you’re here now.”

Katara looked up at him. Even in the dark, she could see the affection in his gaze and the silent understanding and shared remorse over their predicament.

And, underneath all that, the fire and the lust that were the reason Katara kept coming back to him.

Her eyes went to his lower lip, slightly swollen from their kiss, and her hands slid down his chest. The scar he had gotten from saving her was still there—always there—and was a constant reminder of the unique connection they shared, something Katara would never have with Aang.

The years had turned Zuko into a strong, fine man, his muscles rippling under her fingers—far from the teenage boy she once knew. She touched him, letting her hands slip under his robe over his chest and letting his mouth find her neck, where his breath made her skin prickle.

Grabbing her by the hips, he pressed their bodies together, making his growing arousal known. Zuko kissed her neck, and, melting under his touch, Katara tilted her head to give him more access. He opened his mouth to taste her skin, his wet tongue dancing with his lips. She moaned quietly, careful to the ears outside their small room. No one could know about the affair between the Fire Lord and the Southern Water Tribe diplomat.

Still, inside that dark enclosed space, they could drop pretenses and give in to their feelings and desires.

And so were they doing as one of Zuko’s hand found Katara’s breast through the thin silk and squeezed, and she leaned into his touch, combing her hands through his hair and pulling him into another kiss.

She dearly wished their circumstances were different. She didn’t want to hurt Aang, nor did Zuko, she knew, but they had roles to fulfill and responsibilities to bear.

And, yet, they couldn’t deny their feelings. She couldn’t deny the craving that so desperately sought contact between their bodies. She couldn’t deny the longing for him. She had thought that just one time would be enough for them, that it would quench their desire. But the first time had turned into a second, into a third, a fourth, a fifth… until Katara lost count.

What she now knew, was that it wasn’t the kind of desire she could easily—if ever—quench. What she now knew—as the sash wrapping her robe gradually come undone under the friction of their bodies and the neckline slid down her shoulder, revealing her breast to him—was that she wanted Zuko’s touch on her skin more than anything else in the world.

Heat pooled in her belly. She knew she was wrong—she knew _they_ were wrong—but she didn’t care. She hiked one leg around his hips so she could press herself to the hardness between his legs, and Zuko grunted, his hand cupping her breast. He gave the soft mound a squeeze and pinched the nipple with his thumb, and she moaned in delight.

That was why she kept coming back.

Zuko let go of Katara’s breast to grab her hips and press her body harder against his, kissing her fervently, pulling her up and making her wrap both legs around him as he pushed her against a dresser by the wall, his erection flush against her core.

That was why she kept coming back. That was why, for all of her guilt, in the end it didn’t matter to her that she was cheating on Aang. Aang, with all his gentle manners and soft love, didn’t do what _Zuko_ did.

Zuko helped Katara sit on the dresser and broke their kiss to move his mouth to her bare breast. He slowly licked her nipple and tenderly massaged her flesh with one hand while his other gently pulled down the robe still covering the rest of her chest.

Katara watched as the Fire Lord sucked her nipple. It was only in moments like this that their titles meant nothing, that she didn’t need to worry about being the Southern Water Tribe diplomat or _the Avatar’s wife_. It was only in moments like this that the ruler of the Fire Nation would be crownless, and _they_ were the only thing that mattered.

Once in each other’s arms, their positions hold no value, and Katara could have the all-powerful Fire Lord’s mouth on her breast, flicking his tongue on her nipple. If she had had any guilt about their affair, she could no longer remember—now his touch was all that she cared about.

She knotted her fingers in his hair, and he sucked her nipple harder, pinching and pulling the other one he had in his hand. She gasped in pain and pleasure, but Zuko didn’t let go. He painfully twisted her nipple in his fingers, forcing a whimper out of her and intensifying the heat between her legs.

“Zuko…” she huffed.

His response was to bite her other nipple, and she stifled a cry. He gave one gentle lick to the tormented bud and went to care for the other one, its flesh tender from the twisting. The saliva on his tongue was a soothing relief, relaxing her while the wetness and anticipation between her thighs increased.

Aang could never give her this kind of rough treatment she enjoyed. She _had_ tried coaxing it out of him, but he believed it would hurt Katara, and therefore it was _bad_. He didn’t understand that it was precisely the fact that it hurt that made it pleasurable.

But Zuko understood.

Sucking her breast, he started undoing the already loose sash of her robe. When it fell open, Katara eased out of the sleeves, and Zuko’s mouth left her breast to find her lips. His hand caressed her inner thigh before sliding between her legs. She moaned in their kiss when his fingers made contact with her wetness.

He stroked her there, her slick fluids allowing one of his fingers to slide effortlessly inside her core. She broke their kiss and arched her back as he pumped his finger in and out.

“Zuko…” she moaned, gripping his hair.

She needed more of him. She had been too selfish being exclusively on the receiving end of the pleasure up until then. Her hands fumbled to his waist, searching for the knot in his sash, and brushed against the hard bulge underneath his garment as she undid the knot.

His full erection came on display once his robe opened, and Katara motioned to grab it. Zuko, however, moved away from her hand and took out the finger from inside her. She looked at him inquisitively, but his only answer was to lower his head to her center.

Soon his mouth was kissing her wet folds, his tongue finding the special spot hidden there where he licked and sucked vigorously, earning drawn out moans from her. He spoiled her too much.

With her chest heaving, Katara marveled at the sight of the Zuko’s head between her thighs. His tied hair was messy, and getting messier as the movements of his tongue made her legs buck and squeeze around his head. With each lick, he sent jolts of pleasure through her body, and Katara had to fight to support herself on top of the dresser.

She breathed hard, biting back furious moans while his tongue pressed her sensitive nerves. Zuko gave long, open-mouth kisses and dipped his tongue in her entrance, tasting her essence. She whimpered in the want for more, so he moved his tongue back to her swollen clit and inserted a finger in her. He pumped with his finger and flicked his tongue on her clit, gradually increasing the speed until Katara’s legs kicked out erratically and her cries went silent.

She reached a climax when his finger curled inside her and touched a sweet spot. Her entire body convulsed, pleasure invading her every nerve, a silent scream trapped in her mouth.

Aang couldn’t do what _Zuko_ did. He couldn’t make her feels the things _Zuko_ made her feel.

Zuko had to hold her body to prevent her from falling from the dresser, and once Katara recovered from her ecstasy, she pulled him into another hungry kiss, tasting herself in his mouth. Her hand went to his cock once more, gripping its girth tightly, and, returning the favor he had just conceded her, she pumped him.

He groaned and kissed her more ardently, meeting the movements of her hand with thrusts of his own hips. His motions got faster, the tip of his cock oozing clear liquid, and he had to stop himself before he came. This time, however, when he removed her hand from him, it was to guide his cock to her wet, anticipating core.

Zuko pushed the enlarged head through her entrance, slowly stretching her inner walls, and carefully sheathed his entire length inside her. Katara moaned as her body accommodated his size, enveloping his neck with her arms when he hugged her waist and started pumping inside her.

He quickly resumed the previous rhythm he had attained with her hand, his vigorous thrusts making her slip on top of the discarded silk robe she was still sitting on; but Zuko held her firmly in his embrace, his hand gripping her thigh to better secure her as their bodies rocked together.

The way Zuko’s hard length filled her and rubbed against her sensitive skin sent liquid fire through Katara’s veins; he was fast and rough, earning a succession of short, interrupted moans from her that disturbed the silence of the small room along with his own pained grunts.

Sex with him was so different from sex with Aang. Aang would never fuck her against a dresser like Zuko was doing. No—with Aang, it was always the same thing: the two lying in bed, under the covers, him on top of her, always the same uncreative movements, the same routine. Aang would kiss her until he was hard, maybe grope her breasts a little, then he would enter her, hump until he quickly came, and that was it. Orgasming with him was hard. Orgasming with Zuko, on the other hand, was frequent. In fact—

Katara cried out, loudly, for Zuko hit that sweet spot in just the right way.

“ _Shhh_ ,” he hushed, covering her mouth with his hand, while he tried to keep his own grunts quiet. “Someone will hear us.”

It was difficult to keep quiet, though. As he kept thrusting, their breathings became quicker and more anguished. She groaned in frustration and Zuko grabbed her hips so she could better meet his thrusts, their skins slapping fervently against one another in the heat of their passion. Katara used her hands to support herself against the dresser and the wall the best she could, until the amassing pleasure grew unbearable. Throwing her head back, she let the ecstasy of Zuko’s cock consume her, a wave of pure bliss washing over her.

Just as she reached her climax, Zuko groaned in agony, his hips bucked, and he spilled his seed. He squeezed her flesh in his hands, his breath hot against her throat as he buried his face in her hair and emptied himself inside her.

“I love you, Katara,” he whispered desperately, panting, his lips imprinting the words on her neck. “I love you.”

Katara’s chest heaved with her labored breathing, her mind still hazy from the orgasm. She carded her fingers through his undone hair, tilting his head up so she could press her forehead to his. “I love you too, Zuko,” she said as they regained their breath. “So much you have no idea.” She laughed softly.

He held her face gently in his hands and kissed her lips slowly before removing himself from her and helping her down the dresser. “If it’s as much as me, I might actually have a pretty good idea.”

He was smiling as he said that, but there was a hint of anguish behind his words that Katara knew all too well. She smiled sadly back at him and kissed his jaw while he fastened his robe around his waist. Those words wouldn’t sound so bittersweet had their circumstances been different.

She put on her own robe and helped Zuko tie his hair in a smooth knot once more—they had to keep up appearances, after all. What she wanted the most was to stay there with him, spend an entire night in his arms—even if just one time. But she knew they couldn’t have it—not at the moment, not under their circumstances.

Katara could feel a bit of cum dribbling down the inner part of her thigh, but she would worry about cleaning up later. For now, as Zuko and her couldn’t be together the way they desired, she wanted to at least relish carrying a small part of him so intimately with her. Eventually the moon tea would take care of it, and that part of him, too, would be gone from her.

Zuko kissed her one last time. His lips lingered on hers, neither him nor her wanting it to end.

“We’ll figure this out,” he told her when their mouths parted. “I promise.”

Katara nodded. She combed her naturally unruly hair with her fingers and went for the door, offering him one last smile as her silent goodbye, for right now they had other roles to fulfill.

But she would come back.

As she always did.


End file.
